Cake Boss Continued

Nora turned 7 in the company of a bunch of cake decorating fiends (yeah, and they were also friends). Cake Boss Tara had it all figured out employing an adorable cheese wheel and mice theme and the kids had a great time. It never fails, though, the prep and planning that go into one of these birthday shindigs can generate an awful lot of stress. I try to do my thing and convince myself that I'm not out to top any of the parties of birthdays past. My kids have said often enough that a party they went to was the "best party ever". It does become a competition, but not the kind you might think. I'm not trying to best anyone. I just want my kids to feel like I put in some effort. Of course, I don't do this for the summer or spring birthdays in our family. For those, I leave it to the outdoors and pray for sunshine. Anyway, this subject actually came up during Nora's party. You know, how we parents are forever trying to make it into the birthday party hall of fame with our original ideas. This all comes under a heading I like to call Pottery Barn Kids. I try to put it out of my mind most days, but sometimes I can't help myself and I let the doom settle inside my head. I worry with a heavy heart that the kids being raised by my own generation are headed for big trouble. Entitlement is certainly on the short list of worrisome character traits and throwing fab birthday parties for our little princes and princesses seems like it just might be a very bad idea. By the way, don't miss the sparkly silver crown on the head of my princess.

Can You Beat the Stomach Flu?

"Awww, come on. Where's your confidence? You can beat this." These are the encouraging words my husband offered to me after witnessing me endure four hours of pre-stomach flu nausea, followed by the seal-breaking first vomit session. When I rejoined him on the couch, visibly beaten, I waited for the next wave to hit. It took about 35 minutes, at which time I dodged the ottoman again in a sprint to the bathroom. The tough part lasted another 6 hours, culminating at 3 am with a brown toilet and a bile-filled waste-basket. Gross, right? We've all been there. And it's literally something we have to gut out:) My husband thinks I'm from weak stock. Whenever a virus or bacteria get the better of me, he compares his in penetrable genetic immunity to my pathetic one. Yes I get sick. But I'm not a huge baby about it. Can you read between the lines? It's going around. First Aidan on Wednesday, me on Thursday, Rowan on Friday (cast from her father's mold - no actual vomitting). Only two left to fall - who will be next?

Homage to the Cake Boss

Well it's been a real think-tank around here, everybody in the family trying to nail down a theme for Nora's upcoming 7th birthday. We finally made some progress today. After seeing one of Tara Jay's awesome cake photographs on FB, I asked her (on a lark) if she would consider doing a cake decorating session for the party. She said YES and I am grateful to cross that one off the list. At tuck-in just moments ago, I probed a little further.
Here's me, "You know what you need to do next?"
Nora replied, "What?"
"You need to jot down a few things that you would like for your birthday."
Well she cut me off like a texting teen behind the wheel and offered in a whisper, "You know what I want?
"What Nora?"
"A robot that does everything for my family."
I cannot stop laughing.

Monkey Business

Last night we were in the car for the 30 minute drive to North Haven on our way to visit my brother and his family. The 3 kids were in the back discussing, of all things, evolution. They kicked it off wondering how it was that Adam and Eve came on the scene. Where did they come from? Short on answers, I heard someone say something about the first man and woman appearing in a poof. The conversation suddenly headed away from the Garden, with Rowan explaining the chain of life throughout the ages. She told them about the primate link and that was it. What else is left to say when your 6 year old says, "So I used to be a monkey?" That's right Nora, we could never find the words to tell you...

Exploring Friendship

Having kids gives you a chance to revisit all the ugly stuff about peer relationships. Nearly everyday you can lend your support, or at least an attentive ear, while kids unload about the ups and downs (and pitfalls) of friendship. It's a great reminder for ourselves as adults to practice what we preach. For example, if I try to convince my child that her unsupportive friend du jour is jealous of her achievements and has limited coping strategies, I might want to remember those words the next time someone in my own circle hurls an insult my way. I try to remind my kids to apply the box of chocolates analogy (ala Forrest Gump) to the idea of friends. You know, life is much sweeter if you have more than one - blah, blah, blah. But too many of the wrong variety, and you may start to feel a little sick. Some of them are especially rich and just a taste is more than enough, or maybe you avoid the one with nuts until the day you take a leap and discover it's your favorite. I could go on and on. The truth is, I love navigating relationships and figuring people out, but it never gets easier. It's always a challenge. Relationships are the most individualized things. I could have a dozen friends, all serving different needs and I could be a different version of myself with every one of them. But on some days, I'm better off blazing a trail in the woods, on my own time and on my own terms. Sometimes a friend is exactly the opposite of what I need. Sometimes I just need a one-on-one with myself.

Tribute

My daughter is presenting her family heritage project tomorrow (first grade) and we (I) decided to do it on my mother who died nearly 20 years ago. It was neat gathering things together so that Nora has a tangible handle on my mother's memory. We leafed through an old photo album in which my mom had written comments on her pictures. One of them was of my mom at around 11 or 12 years of age and she had a giant bow in her hair. Across her face she wrote, "How Perfectly Horrible". She always had such a good sense of humor, and was so grounded about herself and the people around her. Nora and I assembled some special treasures that belonged to my mother including a piece of her jewelry; her sterling silver hairbrush, comb and mirror set; her Elgin compact; her Sheaffer fountain pen; and a handful of photographs. The best item, though, is the stunning black velvet cocktail dress that my mother and I both wore when we were in our twenties. It's so gorgeous, I hope to see both of my girls wear it some day. Nora thinks her grandmother was beautiful - and she was. It's good to make time to remember her. I don't do it that often. My mother was, in modern terms, a stay-at-home-mom. She wasn't famous, and she didn't have a career. But she was a good person and a terrific mother. Smart, funny and musical. My mother knew the power of a hug and gave of herself without asking anything in return. She made me who I am, and I am forever grateful to her. Of course I miss her, and that is something that gives my life meaning. She was and remains the most incredible person to me.